A Residual Haunting
by Chained Yet Adrift
Summary: Traumatic experiences always leave their imprint, coming back to haunt us in such a way that it ensures we will never forget. A/U.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my twisted imagination.

A/N: This fic is not meant to offend anyone or cause some outrageous revolt. It is simply another product of three options: too much smutty imagination, too much time on my hands to help it thrive.

Pairing: Oliver Thredson/Lana Winters.

American Horror Story: Asylum

A Residual Haunting

Amongst the chorus of incoherent mumbling and random chatter of the many broken minds filling the common room, there was just one abandoned soul sitting alone in silence, lost to the world. Forgotten. Lana sat by the window in a dusty tattered old chair, wrapped comfortably in her brown sweater. She stared blankly out of the holes in the metal grate covering the window at the setting sun lazily turning in behind the tree line in the distance.

It's been two months since she managed to turn in the confession tape that she and Kit managed to procure from that maniac, thanks to the help of one her colleagues from the Column that got wind of her confinement and came out to see her. Finally someone on the outside of whom she knew without a doubt she could trust. If it wasn't for her, Oliver Thredson would still be on the loose, haunting her for the rest of her days. Everyone else with a shred of decency and common sense had failed miserably, either by falling prey to Briarcliff's horrors or just no longer giving a damn.

She once had faith in Sister Jude who promised that she would get her out before it was too late, before her mind was lost. But the Monsignor was expeditious in his efforts to make sure no one would ever get wind of the true nature lying within the mortar of this corrupted torture palace. After too much juice from shock therapy, Jude was deduced to a barely a shard of her former self. And Kit... Well he was released of his wrongful accusations when the true acclaimed Bloody Face was revealed. Unfortunately he wasn't able to return such a gesture. Wendy's decision to lock her away had been the cosmic joke to end all cosmic jokes and all it took was the swipe of a ballpoint pen. As long as her sexual orientation was "sick" enough to lock her up where the sane were driven so crazy by the psychopaths that you eventually couldn't tell who was who, then she could and _would_ be stuck here. Possibly forever. With Kit on the outside and her trapped on the inside, they would never be able to bring down this hell hole, but she could at least take comfort in the fact that between them both, they were able to get that sociopath strapped in that electric chair if it was the last thing either of them would ever do.

Last she read in the newspaper, Oliver had gone to court and as the days, weeks, and months passed by... She was anxiously awaiting his conviction and the newspaper that would showcase the moment he finally fried.

"Lana?" said a voice followed by a touch on her shoulder and slowly Lana emerged from the fog of her daze and turned to see Carl, the orderly, in a crisp white uniform. He was holding out a rolled up newspaper.

"I called your name at least three times. Don't tell me you're becoming like the rest of these nut jobs around here." he joked as his eyes wandered around the room to the mindless drifters making their rounds. "I told you how difficult it is for me to sneak this to you so you gotta be a little more alert than this. I've had it since this morning, but it's been more of a living hell around here than usual."

"What's happening?" she asked quietly as she slid the newspaper from his fingers and tucked it into her sweater.

"Just everyone's been busy preparing for our newest "family member" to arrive today… " he responded as another orderly called his name to hurry up. He moved to walk away but stopped and leaned down next her ear. "Word of advice? Go back to your cell and stay there."

"Thank you, Carl..." she told him, giving a look of confusion as to why he would suggest such a thing. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Being trapped within these walls day in and day out was detestable enough as it is, but stuck inside a tiny little cell was something she refused to tolerate. He nodded in response and trotted off through the gaggle of patients still wandering aimlessly around the room.

At first she questioned his statement, but thought better of it. With most of the original staff of the asylum either locked up, crazy, or killed off, Carl had become one of the few decent people left in this place that she found she could trust. But she couldn't imagine why a new inmate would cause such a frenzy. It wasn't like the asylum wasn't home to some of the most horrifying monsters in town already. What's the harm of one more? She turned away from prying eyes and quickly retrieved the newspaper from her sweater and pulled the rubber band off, unrolling it to the front headline. She knew the moment she was waiting for was going to be soon. Any day now, Oliver was going get what was a long time coming and she would cherish the day it happened. With a small smile as she smoothed out the newspaper, she mentally envisioned hanging that makeshift death certificate on the wall in her grimy little cell. Just imagining that today may even be the day caused her smile grow even bigger.

Quickly her eyes scanned the headline in greedy anticipation of seeing that bold black lettering that would finally bring her a sense of peace, but instead an uneventful headline of some robbery downtown left her feeling bereft. Slowly she stood up from the seat, the momentary light in her eyes of excitement and wonder for the article like a child on Christmas morning fizzled out and she rose from her seat. Slowly Lana shuffled her way towards the common room's double doors. They'd been locked for the later half of the day and by this time she'd heard the jukebox cycle through all of the records twice now. One more round of 'I Got You Babe' by Donnie and Cher and she would gladly beg for a round of shock therapy to make her forget.

Carefully she waded through the howls and babbling of scattering patients when suddenly she felt a hard object collide against her side and she went tumbling to the floor, smacking her head against the cement. Wincing Lana, looked up to find the culprit of her attack sitting in a chair with wheels. It was a young man, grinning from ear to ear and he shrugged his shoulders then kicked off with his legs, howling as he zipped across the floor.

Pulling herself up from the floor, she rubbed the side of her scalp and frowned to notice a bump was quickly forming. Resuming her path, she continued to rub the swelling knot when she saw the doors to the common room open and the tall figure that was pushed roughly through them caused her to come to an unexpected halt.

A sharp intake of breath left her lips as the short dark hair and thick brooding set of matching eyebrows came into focus. The unforgettable characteristics of the man who still managed to haunt her dreams, Oliver Thredson. Shutting her eyes, Lana shook her head in an attempt to shake off what couldn't possibly be real and for a moment, she had to wonder exactly how hard she'd hit her head. Her eyes darted back to the common room doors her eyes widened to see that his looming figure where her eyes last left it. She clutched the newspaper in her fingers tightly as she watched his dark eyes drift across the common room. Surely she must be dreaming! Or maybe Carl was right… Was she really going crazy?

'_It couldn't be….'_ she thought dimly.

Carefully Lana crept closer, glancing around the room to see if anyone else noticed him too, but part of her knew it was false hope. Half of these people couldn't even tell their own reflection from the next. As she stared at the lone figure across the room through the wandering inmates, it appeared to be that maniac…. and yet it didn't. No, he was _different_. From what she could see from where she stood, the sides of his head had been slightly shaved just near his temples where he bore the tell tale pink blotch from what she knew to be only one thing: a dose of electroshock therapy. He was wearing the standard blue asylum uniform for male inmates and a thin black sweater, open in the front. His hands were in the sweater pockets and he was looking around the room as though he were somewhat confused. Lana's eyes widened the moment his dark eyes finally found hers through the crowd from behind his eyeglasses.

"No, no, no… Stop it, Lana. You're just hallucinating." she told herself aloud, her voice cracking as her eyes began to water and she whimpered. "Go back… to your cell."

A look of recognition passed over his face and slowly a small smirk spread over Oliver's bow shaped lips and Lana took a step back as he moved in her direction. Quickly she shuffled backward, bumping into a chair behind her, the loud and abrupt sound of its wooden legs scraping against the cement.

'He's not real!' her mind screamed and finally she yelled across the room, "You're supposed to be in jail!"

Frantic, Lana darted across the room without watching where she was going and knocked over a small table that held a chest board, sending the chest pieces scattering across the floor. She watched him getting closer and her heart pounded in her ears, thundering with each beat as if the blood in her veins was rushing directly past her eardrums. The edges of her vision became blurred with hot tears and Lana tumbled to the floor after tripping over a foot stool, her newspaper slipping from her fingers. Several of the asylum's orderlies and a middle aged nun rushed up to restrain her.

"Calm down! What's the matter with you, Miss. Winters. You never act like this!" she heard one of the orderlies yell as he forced her down to the floor. She looked up beyond the orderlies shoulders as they crouched over her to wrangle her flailing limbs to see Oliver silently peering down at her from behind them with a dark and solemn expression.

"Get him away from me… Get him away from me!" she all but screamed with a hoarse voice as she thrashed about.

"Alright, that's about enough out of you." the orderly muttered and the nun was quick to give her a sedative.

The drug's effects were almost immediate and her eyes never left the figure of Oliver Thredson while he continued to stand behind them. Quickly her wild eyes began to droop. The orderlies moved aside as a gurney was brought over and after they lifting her on top of it, they quickly strapped her down to it. As Lana's eyes sagged, Oliver moved forward, his tall form towering over.

"Lana... You haven't seen me in over three months and this is how you behave?" she heard him say as her vision faded into darkness.

Oliver slid his hands into the pockets of his blue uniform pants and let his dark eyes follow her as it was pushed by the orderlies through the double doors and out of sight. He bent down and picked up the stray newspaper that remained behind on the floor and took a seat in a darkened corner of the common room. Unfolding the paper, he flipped it several pages to get to its heart and a small youthful smile returned to his face the moment his dark eyes met with a black and white picture of himself and just above it was a bold lettered title that read:

_'Acclaimed killer of women sentenced to serve life term at local Mental Institution.'_

=====To be Continued!=====


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my twisted imagination.

A/N: This fic is not meant to offend anyone or cause some outrageous revolt. It is simply another product of three options: too much smutty imagination, too much time on my hands to help it thrive.

Pairing: Oliver Thredson/Lana Winters.

American Horror Story: Asylum

A Residual Haunting

Chapter Two

Red.

It was everywhere, filling cell with an incandescent and unnervingly euphoric crimson. Lana shifted, wincing as her back recognized the worn lumpy mattress that gave its indication that it was hers. Slowly she pushed herself, her blurred eyes adjusting themselves. She gazed sleepily at the light seeping into her room from the small grate window of her cell door and the opening where her door had been left ajar. Her eyes followed the slanted box of light from the hall to the wall next to her bed as though the cement had been splashed with angry red streaks of blood.

Groggily, she swung her legs over the bed, letting them dangle over the edge and she gave the light a closer inspection, realizing it was the facilities emergency lights beaming in through the hall. She didn't remember coming to her cell, nonetheless taking a nap in the middle of the evening. After a few moments, she buried her face in her hands and rubbed her eyes to try to shake off the fog when an unforgettable voice rose from the overwhelming clouds of her brain.

'_Lana…. You haven't seen me in over three months and this is how you behave?'_

Immediately her eyes widened and she gasped, looking towards the cell door. Thredson…. It must have been just as simple as a nightmare born from the product of too many sedatives. There was no other plausible explanation. The borderline lethal mixture of medication floating around this place would knock any sane person on their ass and send a psychopath drifting happily into the world of their own sick desires. Pushing herself out of bed, Lana lightly stumbled her way up to the cell door in wonder as to why it was open.

"Hello?" she called out hoarsely. "Helloooo?!"

Silence. It was the only comfort that you desperately desired for day in and day out, but couldn't grasp no matter how hard you tried was practically deafening to her ears in contrast. From what she could see the sliver of space where her door was open, the halls were empty and the adjacent cell doors were open. The power must have gone out. Curious, she grasped the metal door handle and with a little tug, she watched the door clank loudly and creak on its hinges as she swung it open. The more her mind began to clear, the more familiarity of the situation she now found herself in. Finally it dawned on her when she stepped out into the emptiness of the hall to bathe in the redness of the emergency lights over head. This was exactly like the time she foolishly gave up her own escape attempt to ensure Kit and Grace never made it through the exit doors. But this time, there was no one to stand in her way. No one to prevent her from taking back the life that had been stolen from her.

Quickly she began to wander down the hall, her eyes glued to that very same door up ahead that was normally locked while the power was still on. This was her chance! Her chance to be free…. The padding of her white shoes grew louder along the cement floor the faster she moved. Her heart sprang to life from its medicated slumber, pumping wildly the closer she came to those double doors.

When she neared the last cell, she heard what sounded like her name called softly by the only voice that could successfully strike an unbridled fear and freeze her in place. She immediately came to a stop. Swallowing, she slowly turned in the direction of her cell. Her eyes looked around the hall. Unable to discern if she was still hearing things, she clasped the sides of her head, her eyes immediately searching the darkened corners of the hallway where the red light couldn't reach. What the hell was going on? Why was she suddenly losing it? This was why she needed to get the hell out of here! Refusing to be deterred, she turned back towards the double doors sitting in the shadows just ahead to see that there was actually a heavy set of chains barring the doors shut. Immediately she felt her heart sink like a little kid's who just dropped a quarter into a wishing well for the first time and realized the harsh realities of life that his wish wasn't coming true.

"Lana…."

Her head whipped back to the cell at her left and her thin brows knit together. With a few careful steps, Lana crept up to the cell door and peered inside the small grate covered window. It was pitch black inside. Her eyes squinted to adjust to the darkness and she couldn't help wondering if she was actually still dreaming. Hesitantly she eased up on her tiptoes for a better look inside and her fingers slipped through the holes in the metal grate of the viewing window for better leverage. Her heart began to pound again at the thought of Oliver Thredson actually residing inside this cell. When she didn't hear anything, she laughed lightly to herself. She _really_ was going crazy…. Just before she pulled her hand away, she felt the briefest brush of a warm fingertip caress the tip of her pinkie finger and Lana gasped, pulling away from the cell door. Her back slammed against the brick wall behind her.

"Oh don't be so melodramatic..." said the low baritone of that unmistakable voice echoing along the empty walls of the hall. "I always said we were drawn together like magnets. You thought I was crazy and yet... here you are."

Lana frowned, her hands beginning to tremble at her sides as the build of tears began to flood her vision. It wasn't a nightmare… It was something far worse. Her throat worked to bring the words screaming in her mind to her lips.

"Son of a bitch... You were in jail." she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. "I know you were because I saw it in the paper. You… Were in _jail_! You were supposed to fry…."

"Yes, I'm sure that must be such a disappointment for you." Oliver responded from the darkness within the cell and she felt her blood boil at his hint of underlying sarcasm.

Lana's bottom lip began to tremble as she watched those long thick fingers emerge from the dark and grasp the grate where her fingers had just been. Immediately her brain sought desperately for some form of comfort and she felt herself begin to relax at the fact that unlike the other cell doors, his was still shut which meant it must be locked. Even though he was behind a wall of steel, his presence still frightened her. She couldn't help wondering why he wasn't strapped down to his bed and drugged up during this power outage. As crazy as this place is, it would be insane to let a murderous psychopath wander about freely while the electricity was out. Surely the staff couldn't be _that_ careless...

"Oliver… Just because you're in here, don't think for a second that I won't be watching you." she jeered in response.

"You and I both know you can't watch me forever." he responded in a bored tone.

"Yeah well I've been in here long enough to know how to pull the strings. You come near me and I'll find a way to have you thrown in solitary for a week." she said almost proudly.

"As if I'm a stranger to loneliness." he snorted. "But tell me… What happens when that week is out, Lana?"

She didn't say anything simply because… he was right. What would she do then? She was stuck here in what seemed like her own personal nightmare that she would never wake up from. A tear slid from her eye and Lana slunk back into the shadows hugging the wall behind her. Her very own monster lurking in darkness of her dreams had come to join her in what was probably the lowest depth of hell.

"You know, I trusted you once. I told you everything. And what did you do in return? You left me…." he said in calm, quiet tone. "So there isn't anything you could do now that hasn't been done to me already. Don't you get it? We're _stuck_ here... Locked together in hatred. But it doesn't have to be that way."

"What are you talking about?" she asked cautiously while edging further back into the darkness.

"We can make the most of a bad situation." he added and she jumped when she heard the rattle of the metal handle clicking noisily and the heavy cell door creaking open. "We can still have Paris."

Her eyes widened and she pressed against the wall as Olivers tall figure emerged and stepped outside the cell. She gave him a quick once over in full realization that what she previously thought was only a figment of her imagination had become a very ugly fact. He was indeed wearing a blue Briarcliff uniform and even that same worn black sweater. Still yet he looked as he always had with his dark round glasses, even though the sides of his head were shaved from the shock therapy.

"You can't have something that was never there to begin with." she said and her head twisted from side to side to look up and down the length of the hallway and called out for a guard.

"Are we pretending that this sanitarium actually still gives a damn?" he said as he closed the distance between them, his fingers reaching out for her. "Because we both know that's not true."

He felt her jump slightly under his fingertips when they met with the soft pale skin covering her exposed collarbone. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Lana darted around him, but he grabbed her arm to pull her back against him and in quick retaliation her hand shot up to smack him, but Oliver was quick to grab her wrist. His free hand shot up to grasp her jaw tightly to force her to look up into his eyes as he hurriedly pushed her backward to drag her into his cell. Lana clawed at the doorframe to the cell, but was forced to succumb to his strength when he twirled her around and hugged tightly her against his front then dragged her into the darkness of his cell.

She cried out, wailing in desperation for someone, _anyone_ to come for her. Ignoring her scuffling, Oliver couldn't resist the smile spreading over his lips. The sensation of feeling her pressed up against him was something he once thought he'd never experience again and yet she was right here. But her cries were interrupting his opportunity to enjoy it and he clamped a hand over her mouth. The arm wrapped around her waist suddenly darted lower and she began to panic when the blue hem of her dress was pulled up. The warmth of his palm was against her stomach and sliding upward along her skin. The sound of keys jingled loudly down the hallway, but Lana's muffled cries remained muted as the jingling grew closer and closer until suddenly the bright beam of a guard's flashlight shone on them both from the hallway and they stopped their scuffling.

"Alright, that's enough!" said the voice of a male guard. "Why aren't you two in the common room with everybody else?"

Lana's second strike attempt to Oliver's face hit its mark and Oliver winced as her hand collided, stunning him enough to release his grip over her mouth.

The clicking of a second pair of shoes came up behind the guard and they heard a soft gasp followed by the chastising sounds of disapproval from the voice of a familiar nun that Oliver and Lana both recognized all too well.

"Oliver Thredson... You've only been here a day, but I thought you'd show some signs of improvement after your first treatment."

"Well I must say, Sister Eunice... There were no holds barred when you gave me the standard Briarcliff welcome. I thought the delousing was bad enough, but the shock therapy so soon? I thought we had an understanding once." Oliver said almost bitterly.

Mary stepped into the cell and waved Lana over. After a moment's hesitation, Oliver let Lana slip from his grasp. His dark eyes remained glued to her small retreating form as she quickly darted behind the guard until she was completely out of his sight.

Mary walked over to him, the large key ring of keys at her hip jingling lightly. "No hard feelings. Besides Oliver, you of all people should know the importance of keeping up appearances. How would it make me look if I just let you slide in here unscathed?"

She reached up, resting her arm on his shoulder and brushed her fingertips over the shaved section of hair near his temples. Oliver didn't say anything. Instead he looked down into her eyes and for a second he saw that same unnervingly orange-tinted pair he originally saw looking back at him when he dealt with the supposedly possessed boy Jed Potter and quickly looked away.

"Well, in any case, we can't have you the two of you harassing each other. At least not so soon." Mary said quietly.

Lana came out from behind the guard. "Are you crazy? I had no idea he was even here!"

"Is that so? Why would you even come way down here at the end of the hall, nonetheless inside his cell just to have his hand up your dress rather than coming out to the common room with everyone else?" Mary shot back and watched Lana's eyes lower to the floor. "Peculiar how the two of you despise each other so much and yet you both always wind up in each other's arms…. In any case, it's been a long day and I really was in no mood to deal with the both of you right now. But it's not too early for another round of shock treatment to cool you off, Oliver."

"Only if you're trying to kill me..." Oliver retorted and nudged his head to the side to remove her fingers from his skin.

"Renowned murderer killed on his first day of serving out his life sentence? Hardly." the nun snorted and sauntered out of the cell. "Although you're well aware of the rules against fornication so we'll figure something out. Bring them both to my office."

Oliver watched the guard dart into the cell and force him up against the wall. Thick restraining cuffs were tied around his wrists and he glanced out of the cell's doorway to Lana who was watching. The guard then shoved him forward out of the cell and reached into the belt at his waist to apply the same cuffs to Lana's wrists.

Lana averted her gaze. She knew she couldn't divulge to the nun the real reason as to why she was down here at the end of the hall and decided to just stay quiet. At this point, she was beyond caring about what others thought. That part of her died the moment she came to this place. As they all then proceeded down the hall with Mary in the lead, Lana glanced behind her to Oliver who simply looked down at her and gave her a dark smile.

====To be Continued====

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my twisted imagination.

A/N: This fic is not meant to offend anyone or cause some outrageous revolt. It is simply another product of three options: too much smutty imagination, too much time on my hands to help it thrive.

Pairing: Oliver Thredson/Lana Winters.

American Horror Story: Asylum

A Residual Haunting

Chapter Three

The hallways were pitch black, noiseless, and even a little chilly from the February wind dancing about outside the asylum's walls as the trio neared the bright candlelit office up ahead. Lana's feet padded quickly behind the nun's steps in effort to keep up as they rounded the corner to Sister Eunice's office.

"Hurry up, get inside." Sister Eunice told the small band of followers behind her, the underlying agitation in her voice evident as she held the door open and watched Lana scurry inside first.

Oliver stumbled through the door after being pushed aggressively by the guard and collided chest first into Lana's back. The door slammed behind them causing the textured glass within it to shake and Oliver felt Lana's smaller form startle from the sound. He looked down at her, noticing she hadn't moved away from him despite the fact that they were practically huddled up to one another. Something else was stealing her attention from him and he followed the path of her gaze to see what captivated her so. His dark eyes give her a quick evaluation by studying her unseen from the corner of his eye. Her posture was stiff, her eyes watching Mary's confident stride over to the wooden armoire next to them, and she didn't even seem to be aware that the solid object she was leaning back against wasn't the wall, but rather him. He wondered if she was actually afraid, but the notion seemed preposterous after her typical heroic and aggressive display she put on in his cell. His eyes drifted to Mary in thought as to the types of "discipline" she must be so graciously bestowing upon the inmates in his absence.

"Alright, we all know the both are up to something… Even if your agenda's may be different. But I do know that what I saw going on in that cell is most certainly not prohibited. So let's just get this over with, shall we?" Mary said, turning back to give them both an awkwardly kindhearted smile in the illumination of the candles brightening the room like false sunlight.

When the nun opened the double doors to the cabinet, Oliver's thick brows knit together at seeing the array of canes hanging from their respective hooks. They were arranged specifically from thinnest to thickest, longest and shortest. He always knew they existed after the talk he had with Kit a while back who couldn't even sit down long enough to talk about his case, but he'd never actually laid eyes on them until now.

Mary took a moment, her fingers skimming over the canes while pondering in thought as to which she preferred then smiled brightly when she grabbed a long thin one. She spun around on her heel to face them, the tails of her long black habit whirling near her legs with the movement. "I would ask who wants to volunteer first, but where's the spontaneity in that?"

Lana backed up a little more into Oliver as Sister Mary bended the length of the cane in her hands, testing its pliancy before jutting the end out with a hiss as it sliced the air to point at Lana.

"It's been a long time so I think we'll start with you first, Miss Winters." she said and moved to stand by the corner of her desk.

Oliver could feel Lana beginning to tremble. She was _actually_ afraid and for once, it wasn't of him. When she finally moved forward, his fingers shot out from the confinement of his wrist cuffs to grip the back of her brown sweater and pull her back to him.

"This is barbaric. I once thought you were such a forward thinker, but it seems you've become just the very thing you despised, Sister Eunice. Or should I call you… Jude?" Oliver said as he slid in front of Lana. "She's trained you well, hasn't she?"

Lana looked up at him in surprise at first then quickly backed away at the realization that he was in such close proximity. Never in her most terrifying dreams had she ever imagined she'd be locked in a room with not one, but two of the most unspeakable monsters to ever grace this facility. Suddenly the notion of jumping out of the nearest third story window seemed much more appealing.

Mary's eyes narrowed and she walked over to Oliver, bringing the tip of her cane directly up before his face. "What, are we trying to get in Miss Winters good graces now that you're both in here? You surprise me, Oliver. I never thought you cared." Mary said in a soft mocking tone and tapped the desktop with the tip of her cane as a gesture for him to assume the position.

"He's not capable of caring for anyone." Lana said in a quiet voice.

"I admit it looked like something else was going on, but she wasn't looking for me. I was waiting for her..." Oliver decidedly confessed. There was going to be a punishment either way and after the ritual protocol of tortures he'd faced today, he wasn't in the mood for the nun's games.

"Really...? I don't know, Miss Winters, he seems to be awfully concerned with covering your tracks. I wonder why…." she told him with obvious irritation and smacked the desk with the cane, the crack resounding loudly through the room. "Bend… _over_!"

A quiet sigh of aggravation slipped from between Oliver's lips and he narrowed his eyes before slowly bending down over the desk, resting his head on his chin. Mary brusquely pulled down the elastic band of Oliver's pants to expose his pale naked buttocks and immediately let the first swat fly.

His body jerked over the desk with each swat of the thin cane and no sooner did it leave his skin did he feel the stinging welt left behind in its wake and he grit his teeth to brace himself against the impact. Now that he was on the other side, on the receiving end of the facilities unspeakable tortures, he suddenly felt like he was that little orphaned boy he once was so long ago. After all of these years here he was yet again, huddled among hundreds of others who'd been abandoned, still somehow getting into trouble because he couldn't control his urges, just to be roughly turned over someone's knee and chastised by a leather crop. Except now he'd traded out the crop for a cane. The years may have changed but the similarity of the situation had not. Part of him wanted to laugh at the irony as a way to mask the pain, but instead he found the buildup of water along his eyelids the only comfort.

Lana watched, unable to tear her eyes from the scene before her. She'd seen this over a dozen times now and every time it made her cringe and look away. From what she could see, his hands were formed into fists, his knuckles white. His short dark hair had fallen into his eyes with every jerk. But as this was happening to Oliver, she couldn't bring herself to look away. When his head turned in her direction, his face was red and he winced with the swats, but his watery eyes were directly locked with hers. For a moment, she thought she was seeing a side of him she'd never glimpsed before. It wasn't the horrid monster she'd become accustomed to looking back at her through his round glasses, it was something else entirely. Something she didn't want to allow herself to try to name, something she'd told herself wasn't there. She thought this was a moment she would enjoy, a moment that she didn't know she was dreaming of, but as she stared at the many red marks tanning his hide and the expression on his face, the satisfaction wasn't as pleasing as she thought it should be.

Suddenly the electricity of the building flickered back on with a dull hum and Mary decided to cease fire and looked down at Oliver's buttocks to admire her handy work. Once satisfied with her job well done, she pulled up the waist band of his blue pants and was careful to take notice of the wincing sound he made as the rough fabric brushed against his sensitive skin.

"Still want to be a hero?" she asked him as she watched him stand to full height.

Lana watched him ignore the nun and walk slowly over to her direction, looking at her with an expression on his face similar to that of a child in need of comforting after being spanked every which way from Sunday for his disobedience from the other parent. When her expression wasn't the welcoming one he was falsely hoping for, Oliver went to stand in a distant corner.

"Well Miss Winters, it is getting late so it looks like you're off the hook… _This_ time." Sister Eunice said. "Pity. I was looking forward to us spending that quality time together. Although I'm sure now that he's here, there will plenty of other chances in the future."

Both inmates watched, button-lipped as the nun walked to each of them and removed the wrist cuffs, tossing them on her desk. She then moved to the office door and opened it, signaling for them to take their leave and go back into the dark heart of the beast known as the common room. They exited the room and heard it shut behind them as they made their way down the hall, Lana in the lead with Oliver close at her heels. The halls were still quiet and she remained silent, being careful to avoid any discussion of the actions that had just transpired. At this moment, the little space of her cell seemed like a home away from home and she quickened steps to get to it. But as they rounded the corner Oliver, suddenly grabbed her arms and pulled her roughly into an empty storage closet and closed the door.

"What the hell are you doing?" she said as he pulled her deeper into the closet.

Her hands felt around in the darkness until the click of the dangling string was heard and the light bulb above their heads came to life, flooding the large room with light. Her eyes widened upon realization that it was the same room she had once left him tied up in all those months ago.

"Lana..." he began, his voice deep almost shaky and she noticed the needy look on his face was still present. "You know everything happens for a reason. Something brought me to you once and after everything that's happened, it's brought me to you again. This isn't just fate anymore. This is something else…"

"I think the shock therapy must be sizzling out what's left of your brain." she said and moved to side step him, but he was quick to close the distance. He backed her up against the brick wall behind them and pressed his hands to either side of her head to pin her between them.

"I don't." he responded seriously and inched closer, his face a breath away from her own.

His eyes passed over the soft features of her face and the smooth pinkness of her skin. When Lana turned her head to avert his gaze, Oliver followed her and quickly captured her lips with his own. He sighed, sucking at her lips to savor the soft fullness of them imprisoned between his own. She immediately pushed against his chest and Oliver gave a look of displeasure at the fact that despite their circumstances she still rejected him. He intertwined his fingers with hers and pressed her hands to the wall at either side of her.

"Stop tortur-!" she began once she was able to free herself of his mouth, but he was quick to silence her with a harsh 'shhhh' and pressed himself flush against her front.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you… Not unless you're asking for that punishment I managed to sweep you out of." he told her firmly. "And I'm sure the second time it won't be a fraction of the light one I received."

Lana stared him down angrily as his fingers found her cheeks. His dark eyes flitted to her lips that had grown puffy from his recently forceful ministrations and he bit his own in apprehension then dove in to recapture his prize. His lips moved over hers almost clumsily and desperate with need yet just as dominating until eventually his tongue found hers.

The warmth of her body pressed to his sent waves of comfort and satisfaction through him and suddenly the excitement of being skin to skin was almost too much for him. Lana felt his hips grind against her own and that familiar yet unfamiliar hardness that he exposed her to in his basement long ago made itself known.

The burning of his buttocks became a thing of the past when she made a small noise into his mouth and Oliver felt a surge of delight at how feeble she could become once he'd stripped away the fight. Somewhere in the midst of it all, a large hand found its way into the front of her white panties and regardless of her muffled sound of protest, he plunged two fingers into the tight passage between her thighs.

Immediately Oliver felt her clasping around them and her own fingers dug into the cloth of his black sweater as he continued to drink from her lips. His fingers moved inside her wet, snug confines in a deft and deep rhythm. Pulling his head back to release her lips, he watched the multitude of expressions on her face bubble to the surface as if he'd thrown a stick of dynamite into a black pond and managed to strike gold. Lana bit her lip as hot waves of pleasure washed through her hips with each caress of his fingers over that sensitive spot buried deep inside. He rested his forehead to hers and leaned over her, almost hypnotized by her reactions and the sudden capsize of her previous mood. The way she was effectively soaking and squeezing his fingers in a pulsating rhythm, the way her hips were beginning to rock over his hand practically made him ache to be inside her.

Suddenly the sounds of the door knob twisting and voices were heard outside the door behind them. Oliver clamped his free hand over Lana's mouth and pushed her into a dark corner behind a rickety old wooden shelf shoved against the wall just as what sounded like two orderlies came inside and closed the door.

"I don't know what the hell's going on around here, but since Sister Eunice took over, I haven't had a damn break in months."

They two inmates heard the sound of a cigarette being lit and Oliver's gaze remained locked on Lana's, her brown eyes filling with fear and yet just as equally dazed as his hand between her legs remained unrelenting in its silent assault and suddenly the two orderlies vanished from her mind.

"I hear ya. This place is gettin' more crowded every month. Soon we're gonna be overrun."

Oliver could feel Lana's almost labored breath against his chest and he slid a free hand under her dress, dragging the warmth of his palm up the curve of her rump and the soft sway of her hip until he found the pebbled nipple he was aiming for. Her thighs tightened around his hand the moment he plucked and rolled that sensitive little nub between his thumb and forefinger. Her back arched as those long, thick fingers drove into her until her eyes rolled behind her eyelids as she suddenly came.

"Quietly..." he whispered into her ear, the movement of his fingers slowing while carefully watching every minute of seeing her become lost to her own forbidden desires.

"Alright let's go before someone finds out were missing."

The two inmates listened quietly as the orderlies exited and closed the door behind them, unbeknownst to the lewd behavior occurring right under their noses. Slowly Oliver removed his fingers, but not before gently caressing that now swollen bud at the apex of her thighs with his wet middle finger. Lana slumped against the shelf for a moment in search of support on her seemingly wobbly legs. She didn't say anything and avoided his intense gaze as if it would turn her to stone if she dared to look. Finally she righted her brown sweater and pulled her dress back down into place. Oliver watched her drift quickly towards the exit and stopped in front of it, staring ahead at the rickety storage door in front of her.

"This changes nothing today..." she told him in a quiet voice from where she stood.

"Don't worry, we have all the time in the world." he retorted back, his own lust still latent in his voice.

Lana turned to see him looking at her with a dark expression as he sucked away her juices from his fingers and she reached up, clicking the light switch off then bolted out of the storage door to leave him behind in the darkness.

====To Be Continued====

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my twisted imagination.

A/N: This fic is not meant to offend anyone or cause some outrageous revolt. It is simply another product of three options: too much smutty imagination, too much time on my hands to help it thrive.

Pairing: Oliver Thredson/Lana Winters.

American Horror Story: Asylum

A Residual Haunting

Chapter Four

Since Oliver's arrival, the days seemed to drift by for Lana unnoticed like a stranger passing in the background. She spent a majority of her time occupying her cell when she could. Anything to keep a solid object between her and the man she so vehemently despised. Lately she only saw him just before lockdown at night, passing by her cell on his way to his own. Once the call for lights out was heard and the inmates were rushed into their cells was when the night long torturing was its worst.

During the day the halls were filled with the hollowed out screams and wails of the inmates with no point of their origin to be found, almost as if they the sounds came from within the walls of the asylum themselves. But at night, the deafening silence that was left behind was a haunting, chilling.

As Lana lay in her bunk alone in the dark, the sounds around the building were amplified against the brick lining the walls. It was then that she swore she could hear the quiet sound of Oliver's voice and her name bouncing off the walls, preventing her from sleeping like a haunting whisper that threatened to follow her into her dreams.

Sleep was hard to come by those nights. Whenever she finally closed her eyes to hover between that fine line of sleep and wakefulness, the memory of his long fingers exploring the sensitive passage between her thighs caused her to start and the promise of sleep disappeared further and further from her grasp. As she lay still atop the uncomfortable mattress with a restless mind, the emotional shock and humiliation she'd succumbed to were there to keep her company, taunting her throughout the long hours of the night in reminder of the way she found release from those same hands in that storage closet that day. The restless thoughts tormented her over and over, often times in the sound of Wendy's own voice because they were the same fingers that were responsible for dismembering her lost love and stripping his other victims skin from her hide like an exuberant taxidermist on his best day.

After what seemed like endless nights of torment, Lana awoke the next day to discover that the staff had actually moved Oliver from the cell he occupied at the end of her hall to one of the private cells around the corner in the men's ward. She couldn't believe how thankful she was when she discovered through bit of eavesdropping on the gossiping nun's in the laundry room that he was only there temporarily until they'd found space for him.

For the first time since she'd been in here, things were turning out in her favor. The staff had been keeping Oliver very "occupied" as of late. They were riding him hard, keeping him under constant forms of evaluation and various methods of treatment now that they had their hands on the real Bloody Face. During the trial, Kit Walker divulged the details of his treatment while he was imprisoned within Briarcliff and he actually managed to create a little bit of an uproar by going public with it, of course not without her help whenever she could offer it. The staff was busier than ever now in their efforts to keep up appearances and prove that the facility could successfully provide treatment for its patients. It was either that or face possible shut down.

Lana on the other hand couldn't have been more disgusted. She knew it was only a matter of time that once the heat died down, they'd be back to their old horrific tactics of mistreatment through blindly misguided teachings under the cloak of the Lord.

The sun rose slowly, illuminating her cell and warming the cold walls outside with natural sunlight that none of the facilities inhabitants would ever feel on their skin. When the door to Lana's cell opened followed by the clicking of the other cells in the hall, she climbed out of bed and pushed the door shut again as she always did to wait for another hour because it was 8:00am which meant two things: it was time for breakfast and Oliver was loose.

When the time arose, she finally slipped out of her cell, wandering down the hallways as it was almost time for kitchen duty to clean up this morning's mess, the only time when she could be left alone and in peace. As she turned the corner, Lana overheard the sound of voices, one in particular that said her name. Immediately she came to a stop, her heart beginning to race and she wondered if the night was now haunting her during the day. As she listened closely, she realized it was coming from one of the closed offices and after taking a careful glance up and down the hall to ensure it was empty, she stalked up to the door and perched against it to listen.

"Yes, Oliver… Miss. Winters. The staff alerted to me the fact that this very same woman you kept in your basement is here in this same facility. How they've managed such a travesty is beyond me and out of my control. She's not my patient and I can't gain access to her file, but Sister Eunice tells me it's been a struggle keeping you two separated. From what I've discovered in your file, she was the last of your victims and in fact, she was a patient of yours at one point."

Oliver was quiet, his arms shifting within the confines of the straitjacket he wore in order to get more comfortable. Offering up a small smile, his eyes wandered over the office and noticed the security guard that brought him was now perched in the corner, "In this very same office."

"You know, each and every one of your patients were counting on you to help them, including Miss. Winters." the psychiatrist across the desk stated while scanning over the scattered patient files all over her desk. "But you blurred the lines of ethical boundaries between doctor/patient in order to satisfy your own needs."

"How very observant of you…" he said in a calm, quiet voice and after a moment, he gave the doctor a dark look. "And I'm supposed to count on you?"

The doctor looked up from the papers and clasped her hands atop the desk. "Yes, I'd like to think so."

With a light chuckle, he leaned back in the small wooden chair. "I've sat here for the past two hours and all you've done is tell me what you _think_ is wrong with me based on what you've read in my file. And yet, you haven't even established the basic principle of developing a solid profile based on your own interpretations provided through talk therapy."

The doctor sighed and Oliver continued, "You can't understand a mind not of your own without walking through it... unless you're uncomfortable with what you might find. And if so, may I suggest you're probably in the wrong profession."

This was the fifth psychiatrist that had been brought in to see him, the others having disappeared after either not being able to withstand the harsh conditions of the asylum or the fact that he'd simply refused to speak with any of them. And this doctor was proving yet again that he could practice circles around her and still manage to provide some form of development after only the second session. Of course it wasn't a competition after all seeing as he no longer possessed his license, but the challenge kept his mind occupied throughout the long days such as this one.

"From what I've seen, you can't even accept the fact that you'll never force the woman you're after in the common room to love you for who you are. What makes you think your interpretations of what you've fostered yourself into believing to bring you normalcy will somehow change my mind?" the doctor asked directly.

"You're not discussing anything that I haven't already figured out. And if I wanted to talk to a therapist, I would remain in my cell and talk to myself." he responded flatly.

"That may be so, but I do know this… You've spent your entire life trying to better understand this affliction of yours, to help yourself and supposedly help others and yet here you are on the opposite side of this desk. So whether you like it or not, you need my help more than you think." the doctor said matter-of-factly.

Oliver stared across the table at the woman before him, her long red hair and starched black suit, sitting where he once used to sit, living the normal life he'd always tried so hard to possess. But from the moment he began planning to take Donna Burton's life, his own life had been constantly slipping through his fingers like the grains of sand in a sand timer until it was too late to turn it back. And right now, he wanted nothing more than to flip this desk in a rage for everything that he wished he could've been and what he could've done with his life. And the last thing he wanted to do was sit here discussing the cosmic joke of his life as if he hadn't been living it for the past thirty five years.

After a moment, Oliver's eyes became glassy and he lowered them to the floor between his legs before pulling himself together. Deciding to divert the conversation, he spoke, "It's not easy taking someone's life, you know?"

"Of course not, the emotional weight and guilt is overwhelming."

"No, the physical act. The body is strong and resilient, but each body is vastly different. You have to find the best tactic of breaking it down piece by piece without destroying the most important element you want to salvage…." he clarified, glaring directly into the doctors eyes across from him. "You know, it took me six years to build up the nerve to skin Donna alive. Alison, three months. And eventually just a few weeks after Lana betrayed me. It was as if the flood gates had opened with no possibility of ever sealing them again."

"Oliver…" the doctor interrupted. "I'd prefer to stay on task seeing as we don't have much time left. What I'd like to do is spend this time talking about your mother. Your real mother."

His glazed brown eyes flitted back to the psychiatrist, her voice pulling him from the darkened depths of his mind. "I never knew her, it's as simple as that." he said, his tone lingering along the lines of boredom.

"Yes, but each of these victim's all have similarities. Fair skin, auburn hair, and a slender build. I understand you never knew her, but did you find information on her, a picture perhaps?"she asked.

His gaze grew dark, vacant as though he was mentally escaping the questions, but in reality his mind was wrapped around the documentation he managed to obtain from the local hospital where he was born and the city's public records. That was one of the few perks of working for the state. It was as if he had the keys to the castle. There were only a few women who had given birth to a baby boy on the day he was born and after several attempts to weed out the non matches based on appearance, he managed to find one that closely fit like none other. He was never sure if she was truly his mother when he stumbled over her picture within the records archives from the late 1920's. She didn't share the same last name, possibly unwed, but she no longer resided within the state and apparently had moved away shortly after giving birth. The picture of that woman was the closest he'd come to applying a face to the blank one he carried with him all those years. And since then, she was the vision that was tacked to the wall of his mind.

"Yes…." he finally responded.

"What I would like for you to do is to practice a method of disassociation with Miss. Winters and the woman you found in that picture. I want you to begin replacing that image with that of your real mother."

Immediately his dark eyebrows twisted in irritation. "Obviously you must understand that disassociation without a cognitive replacement that possesses a justifiable standing within the patient's psyche would defeat said purpose. So why would I do that, doctor? Lana has been the one and has done more for me in that short time we were together than my real mother has ever done in her lifetime, even if it was in jest…. The very idea is vexatious and unwarranted at best."

"Will you promise to give a try?" the doctor asked in a firm tone, standing up from behind her desk. When he still didn't respond, she pressed him again. "Or we could continue with your most recent method of treatment via the use of electroshock. It's not exactly a method I advocate as humane, but it can continue."

His mouth opened to form another argument and suddenly he began to recall his first experience under the electrodes. As he lay strapped down to a bed that was bolted to the floor, he stared up into the eyes of Sister Eunice silently hoping that he would go into cardiac arrest and finally be free of this life. When the shrill pierce of electricity whirred through the electrodes, the muscle contractions shook all the way down into his his bones after the sharp jolt flowed through his body with only a rubber guard between his teeth to prevent them from shattering. The crackling sound that lingered in the air once it was over danced between his ears followed by the sensation of the nun's fingers smoothing his damp hair away from his forehead. It's been several days and finally the trembling in his hands was beginning to completely subside….

Oliver let out a heavy sigh. By this time, he had grown tired of this conversation an hour ago and was ready for a change of scenery. "Yes." he muttered.

She gave him a small smile and walked around the desk to help him out of the chair since the straitjacket left limited mobility for balance. The guard moved forward and assisted in removing the jacket. "We'll meet here again in two days and I'll be checking with the staff on your progress and hopefully absence from Miss. Winter's sight."

When the door swung open and Oliver was ushered outside, Lana jumped. The door slammed shut behind him and he paused in his step at seeing her there. He gave her a small smile at the realization that she had been eavesdropping. Quickly she walked away.

"Wait! I need to talk to you." he called after, his hand shooting out to grab her by the arm.

"Don't you dare touch me." she said, pulling out of his grasp and his fingers wound into her red sweater.

"Just… listen." he almost growled, jerking hard at her as the sound of the stitching in her sweater came loose.

"To what? More of your lies? Am I supposed to believe what that therapist told you will work and that you're suddenly going to transform into some perfect model of integrity?" Lana spat, pushing against his chest to shrug off his attempts at pulling her closer to him. "I always said you headshrinkers are hypocrites. You're a monster and so is she if she thinks this little experiment of hers is going to work."

Oliver stuffed his hands in the pockets of his black sweater and leaned back against the wall. "As much as I hate to admit, I agree with you for once because you've finally realized that this… is destiny." he commented, his eyes wandering over her skin from behind the lens of his glasses.

Even now as she stood before him, angry and for the most part borderline irate, he longed to be reminded of what it was like to feel her smaller frame against him again. Or the way the warm, wet passage between her legs squeezed his fingers so tightly the moment she found release in that storage closet.

Lana shook her head, a small smile of disbelief spreading across her face at his statement. "You deserve every amount of punishment you receive in here, Oliver... And still I find it insufficient."

Brushing off her comment, Oliver shrugged. "In truth my level of trust with you is very miniscule at best... But I believe with the appropriate amount of therapy, all isn't lost. I'm still the same man you came to know and requested help from in that very same office there."

"You're insane. You may have escaped the electric chair, but the shock therapy will come back for you. And soon… you'll be a burned out shell just like Sister Jude."

"Is this the part where you try to break me?" he said, his low tone hinting at his aggravation. "When are you going to realize that you can't break something that's already broken? We're in here together which means the very thing that happens to me, could very well happen to you. But what makes you and I different is that unlike you, I've got nothing left to lose. So your threats hold about as much appeal as those lackadaisical cooking recipes you used to publish in that local paper of yours."

Lana's eyes narrowed. "I don't have time for this. I've got kitchen duty tonight and if you remember correctly, I don't think you want to be around me after knife count. Besides, I'd rather die than stand here and give you another minute of my life."

She stalked away from Oliver, her white tennis padding quickly over the cement floor. He knew she could feel his eyes on her as she made her way down the hall.

"There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be…" he called after her and once she was out of earshot he whispered under his breath, "And that's with me."

Lana was expecting him to be at her heels, but to her surprise when she rounded the corner he was nowhere to be found. Was that psychiatrist right in concocting a plan to keep them apart and that he may have been playing mind games with her? Or could it be that what she said would actually ward him off for a little while? A tiny smile spread over her face at the thought that perhaps it was just the trigger to keep him at bay.

The hours seemed to go on like days and eventually after kitchen duty was complete, Lana found herself exhausted and could only think of the lumpy mattress waiting for her in her cell. Never had she thought in a million years that after all of her efforts to chase her dreams, she would end up washing the dishes of the insane. Hanging up her apron, she quietly made her way back to her cell. It was the end of the night and a majority of the inmates had already made their way into their cells for lockdown. She didn't see Oliver again since she'd left him in the hallway earlier that day. He didn't even come down when dinner was served in the dining hall. Sluggishly, she crept along the dark hall of cell doors lining the walls until she stumbled across the one that belonged to her. With her eyes glued to the floor, she removed her sweater and shoes and pulled off the blue dress that was all but stuck to her skin as thought it were a part of her nowadays. Climbing into bed, Lana watched as the door to her cell was locked for the night along with all the others.

As the moonlight from the window behind her bed shone on the rusted cell door, Lana's eyes widened when what appeared to be large black lettering scrawled across the metal caught her eye.

'_I see you.'_

She gasped, her eyes searching the dark as a glint of familiar light reflected off a pair of glasses in the blackened corner adjacent her bed and she watched in horror as the figure who had been so blessedly absent, made itself known.

"I was beginning to think you'd never show up…" Oliver whispered. "Do you know how much effort it takes to keep a bed disguised as if I've been asleep all evening just so that I can have this time here… With you?"

====To be continued!=====

A/N: This has been a long time between updates! I've been ridiculously busy, but I'm finally back to finish what I've started. Including work on my other fics too. *stretches fingers* It feels good to be back….


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